Kael
By the time we stopped for gas, I was dangerously close to mutiny.
Not because the mission had gone badly.
Not because the roads were rough.
Not even because we were heading toward a hidden extremist settlement buried deep enough in the mountains that drone surveillance would become nearly useless once we got close.
No.
The problem was Drake.
Specifically, Drake discovering that tactical comm units worked across multiple vehicles.
Which meant for the last three hours he had apparently decided his true calling in life was becoming a one-man mountain radio station.
“At this point,” Jones's voice crackled dryly through the comm system from the SUV behind us, “I would genuinely rather listen to gunfire.”
“That’s hurtful,” Drake informed him immediately through the speaker mounte
